


Kissing in the stars

by carolinka



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5857654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinka/pseuds/carolinka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they kissed, it was an accident and Curtys was in the same room. The second time it was a dare. The third time, they were drenched in water from head to toe, but they were warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing in the stars

**Author's Note:**

> About possible setting and time mistake, please ignore them for the sake of the story. Hope you enjoy!

Marco doesn’t claim to be the most delicate person in the building, even in this goddamn hour but there are some things even he wouldn’t do because, manners. No one should take someone else’s headphones off. Ever.

“Excuse me,” he turns, shutting his eyes, opening his mouth. But before he can get another word out, a chuckle stops him. He opens his eyes tentatively, only to meet the brown, smiley eyes. His bright smile confuses because he is damn sure he didn’t do or say anything funny, and even if he did, it’s fucking seven am.

“I’m Auba,” the guy holds out his hand and Marco takes it out of habit immediately.

“How did you get in?” Marco asks in his flimsy English because the guy introduced himself in English. Must be one of those mad fans, he thinks.

Auba frowns for a moments and his smile falters in confusion but then he honest to God, giggles. “I’m the new signing. Presentation today.”

Oh, Marco groans in his head. Day one, fail one. “Sorry mate, my head is bust these days,” he quickly apologises, the words mixing up horribly, making them incomprehensible but Auba seems to get him, as he waves his arm. “No problem, don’t beat yourself over it,” he says cheerfully, “Why are you here so early though?”

Marco thinks this guy, Auba, is being too direct, but that’s probably because of his general German coldness. Besides, Auba obviously means no harm, even though breaking his no touching my headphones rule, just chatting up with his future teammate. “Kloppo wants to talk.”

Auba’s face brightens even more at the mention of their coach’s name. “Great man, great man.” Marco laughs at the sincerity in his voice and he is damn right, he is great.

“Why are you here so early?”

Auba shrugs, “Wanted to see around, my family still hasn’t come.”

Marco’s eyes find Auba’s shoes.

Fuck.

“I’ll show you around Auba.”

 

_It isn’t an important cup, not an important match. Marco knows but hell, he just doesn’t fucking care what the rest of the goddamn world think, they beat Bayern München and he is getting pissed beyond recognition._

_He just wishes Mario was there, on the pitch. He wishes he could’ve done his celebration in front of him, looking him straight in the eye, trying to trick him into thinking he doesn’t care he is gone. They have Auba now, and the others came too and he will be replaced soon._

_He throws his head back for the God knows how many times and Auba puts his cool hand between his shoulder blades. It feels heavenly on his burning skin and a moan escapes his lips. He realises too late the sound he made, he can only hope the music is loud enough that Auba missed it._

_Not such chance because, Auba is already making him stand up and leads him to the exit. He ignores Marco’s incoherent mumblings and lets him hang on to his shoulders for support as he calls for a taxi._

_Marco is half-asleep all through the way and doesn’t realise they’ve come to Auba’s place they picked together until they are getting into the house, Auba’s little kid jumping on his father, talking in rapid French which makes Marco’s head pound even harder. He likes the kid, bright and loud just like his father but today is just not the time._

_He is pushed into the kitchen and he throws himself on the chair as Auba puts Curtys into the bed presumably, because he doesn’t want his child to witness his drunkness and guilt seeps all over him for being so reckless, not thinking about the consequences of his actions._

_But Mats… He asked Mats to take care of him, as he was going to be driving them but obviously the guy thought it wasn’t important to do as you promised. Auba comes in juts then and Marco starts to apologise instantly, making Auba laugh earnestly. He shrugs, filling a glass with water._

_“No problem, Mats had to leave,” he explains, handing the glass. His hands are still cold and Marco wonders if he doesn’t eat enough tomato but his rage about Mats’ betrayal is stronger than his worry._

_“I’m so gonna kill him,” he mumbles as he downs the water. Auba sits next to him, chocolate and clementine in his hands. He starts to peel the clementine, the sweet smell of it making his mouth water. He laughs at first when Auba starts feeding him the pieces of fruit, then he hides his face hin the crook of his elbow, his emotions triggered by the win, alcohol and the delicate care. He caresses his hair to make him look up and he does, putting his forehead on his shoulder, smell of cigarettes and alcohol clinging on his shirt too._

_His lips are full and red, looks warm in contrast of his hands and maybe he feels lonely, maybe horny or maybe he just wants it. But either way Auba doesn’t respond when he presses his lips against his, sucking the bottom lip carefully between his lips. Auba stops him by pushing him with his hands on his chest, looking guilty and Marco can swear all of his features are filled with pity and he fucking hates it. He gets up quickly to leave the house, to get away from that look but the door is blocked by no other than the little kid who looks absolutely horrified, who was supposed be asleep._

 

Everyone’s still cautious to talk about Mario around him. He would’ve appreciated it if they didn’t fail at it miserably. The way they check around before they talk to see if he is around, the way his conversations stop when he comes in make him roll his eyes, making his face itch with irritation towards his friends. But at least there are people who don’t act that way, probably despite the warnings of his old teammates not to talk about him. They don’t know the guy, so they don’t usually speak about the guy either. And no matter what, he is still the most reasonable one about his departure. Sure he was devastated, but it’s not like they were married for twenty years, they just fucked occasionally and they were best friends. Marco doesn’t deny that he felt betrayed, even cheated but he’ll get over it. He has to. Just not now.

The new teammates don’t understand the extreme caution completely, but Marco realises they are aware it’s about Marco’s and Mario’s close relationship. Especially Auba, who has asked about him few times, if they still talk and how he is doing etc. but when he is around Auba, the last thing he wants to talk about is Mario. He quickly changes the subject after answering and Marco knows it gives the impression he isn’t over him yet.

He is over and actually, there is nothing to get over.

“Were you two dating?” Auba asks quietly ask they jog in front of his friends few meters ahead. Marco stiffens slightly, there is no question who he is talking about and Auba has never approached this subject so bluntly before.

He fixates his gaze on the grass and keeps silent for few minutes. Auba doesn’t insist on getting an answer but Marco wants to put a smile on his face, so he tells whatever would help to make him smile again.

“No, he was my best friend,” he half lies.

Auba raises his eyebrows and he is still not smiling like he doesn’t believe him and Marco huffs. “We really weren’t dating, and he was my best friend.”

“But you loved him.”

“Of course,” Marco answers quickly, because hell, he still loves Mario no matter what.

“I don’t mean like that,” Auba says softly.

Marco doesn’t say anything and Auba never asks about this ever again for a long time.

 

_“Seriously? How old are you?” Nuri whines, and Marco definitely thinks he is right. “Honestly guys, we made fun of people who wanted to play Truth or Dare in highschool,” Marco adds._

_A wave of laughter fills the room. Erik throws gum wrapper at him and feigns shock, “You have never lived than. One more reason to play.”_

_Most people there have partners, so they usually keep it PG with dares, not the truths of course. So far, he learned Mats is a bottom when he sleeps with a man, Nuri hadn’t slept with anyone but Tuğba, Erik lost his virginity at fifteen, not much long ago, many teases, Marcel once tasted baby poop and it was just fine._

_“Truth or dare, Marco?” İlkay smirks. Marco groans, looking at the bottle accusingly. “It’s only fun when you just watch people,” he whines._

_“Oh trust me, it can be fun when it comes down to you too,” İlkay winks. “So?”_

_“Dare,” he decides finally, already regretting his decision a second later when everyone cheers._

_“Oh Marco,” İlkay coos. “It is so obvious you are inexperienced in this game.”_

_“Get over with it mate.”_

_İlkay hums, tapping his chin with his finger. “Who should you kiss?” he mutters to himself. Marco gasps in a breath, “I thought you were going to make me prank call someone.”_

_“That,” Mats waves his finger at him, “is why it’s good you are gaining experience in this game Marco, so you don’t embarrass yourself in front of different people.”_

_“I’m never ever playing this game ever again.”_

_“How’s this? I dare you to kiss someone in this room who you have kissed before,” İlkay says with a curious, calculating glance in his eyes._

_“What if I haven’t kissed anyone?” Marco says defensively, averting his eyes from Auba._

_“Then don’t kiss anyone.”_

_“What if I kissed more than one?”_

_“Kiss every single of them, then,” İlkay shrugs, keeping his eyes on his face._

_Marco sighs and stands up, takes few steps towards Auba and sits across him. Auba has a little, nervous smile on his face but he doesn’t look angry or upset. Marco can feel his heartbeat on his lips, on his fingertips and his vision is blurred at the edges, keeping the other guys out of the picture. He gives a shaky laugh, and puts his hand on his cheek, urging him to come closer with a gentle pull._

_This time, it’s his hands that are cold and Auba is burning. Their lips hardly touch each other at first because both of them are scared to go too far but then Auba just parts his lips and Marco’s hand on his check slips into his hair and he pulls him closer, nearly making their chest touch with the force of his fingers against his skull._

_Auba bits into his lips and he feels blood come rushing to where his teeth had been a moment ago, making him moan into Auba’s mouth between their tangled lips. The sound of his own pleasure brings Marco back to world and he slowly stops the kiss, removing his hand from his head and goes back to his place, with a delicious burn on his lips._

_He doesn’t hear the rest of the answers, the thumping in his ears are too loud._

“Do you have plans for tonight?”

Marco looks up in surprise, because Auba never asks if he has plans, he just tells what he is going to do and asks if he wants to join. “Sure,” he stammers. “All free.”

“Good, wanna have dinner with me?” he says, fumbling with his thumbs nervously. Marco doesn’t understand why he is edgy because they are past that point in their relationship where they hesitate to ask each other out, even though sometimes they can’t escape the tension that develops between them, when they avert their gazes and their touching arms feel like burning and their eyes stay on where a friends’ shouldn’t stay.

Then he realises, Auba is asking him out, like _out out._

“You are asking me out,” he blurts out and regrets as soon as the look of hurt crosses his friend’s face. When he starts to apologise, Marco just puts his had on his mouth and waits until he looks up. His smile is reassuring and he means every word when he says, “I’d love to have dinner with you.”

Auba takes him to a cosy, warm restaurant away from the loudness of the city. Their waiter doesn’t seem to recognise them or he is just a very good faker. The dinner is easy and filled with laughter just like their usual times together but somehow more comfortable, something goes against Marco’s experiences with first dates. They don’t feel just as awkward when their eyes lock on each other’s lips, and their fingers linger when they touch on the wine bottle.

When it’s eleven pm, they decide to leave for Marco’s place as the heating is broken in Auba’s house and Curtys is with his mother. It’s not something they haven’t done, they almost always stay together when Curtys isn’t in Dortmund.

But when they go out, they realise they hadn’t seen the rain when they were safe in the restaurant. They stare at the car, about hundred meters away because there was a sign not to park any closer than that to the restaurant.

“Think of this as a new experience,” Auba offers weakly, his teeth faintly tattering, as he is not used to the cold as Marco is. Marco grabs his fingers and gives a firm squeeze, “We can do this,” he says with fake seriousness, drawing a laugh from Auba.

“One, two, three…” they count at the same time and start to run with linked hands but halfway through their run, Auba’s feet tangles in some rock and falls, taking Marco down with him too.

Thankfully, rain has already softened the earth beneath them, if they just ignore that their coats are fully covered in mud. Auba huffs, rubbing his right hip with a pained look on his face. “Are you injured? I don’t think Kloppo would let me live if something happened to you.”

“I’m fine, I guess,” he says, hiding his face in Marco’s neck, his hot breath tickling the thin skin there. Marco puts his hand on Auba’s too, on his probably bruised skin. The rain continues pouring down on them but they are already drenched and few more moments there wont make any harm, other than possible pneumonia.

Auba leans his head on the floor, not caring about the mess anymore. Marco smiles when he realises he can see the reflection of the stars in his big eyes through the rain.

It is inevitable, and neither of them would want to avoid it anyway. This time, not any of them is drunk and Auba’s four-year-old kid won’t catch them, their teammates aren’t watching every move they make and God, it really can be better.

There is no place for hesitation this time, they welcome each other’s tongue in the warmth of their mouth. They almost taste identical, wine’s rich taste still on their tongues and it feels like they are one as Auba brings a mud covered hand to wrap in this hair, tugging his closer, keeping his other hand on his neck as if to feel his pulse.

A loud thunder brings them out of their heated kiss and both wince as they part with heavy breaths mingling together.

“If this rain doesn’t kill us, Kloppo definitely will,” Marco mutters, still doing nothing to move.

Auba, once again, hides his face in his neck, mumbling something he can’t understand. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Auba groans miserably, “I said, you have a bed in your house.”

“Shocker.”

“We could resume this there,” Auba suggest winking, his breathing getting heavier with just the thought of being close.

And this, is worth getting up.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated! :*


End file.
